THE
PARADOX OF OUR TIME
if you ever wanted to think about life in a new light... The
paradox of our time in history is that we have
taller buildings, but
shorter tempers;
wider freeway, but narrower viewpoints;
we spend more, but we have less;
we buy more, but we enjoy it less.
We have bigger houses and smaller families;
more conveniences, but less time;
we have more degrees, but less sense;
more knowledge, but less judgement;
more experts, but more problems;
more medicine, but less wellness.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life;
we've added years to life, not life to years.
We've been all the way to the moon and back,
but we have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.
We've conquered outer space, but not inner space;
we've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul;
we've split the atom, but not our prejudice.
We have higher incomes, but lower morals;
we've become long on quantity, but short on quality.
These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare;
more leisure, but less fun;
more kinds of food, but less nutrition.
These are days of incomes, but more divorce;
of fancier houses, but broken homes.
It is a time when there is much in the show window
and nothing in the stockroom;
A time when technology can bring this letter to you,
and a time when you can choose either to make a difference...
or just hit delete.
Pass it on...
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Il
viendra des pluies douces et l'odeur de la terre
Et des cercles stridents de vives hirondelles
Des grenouilles aux mares qui chanteront la nuit
Et des pruniers sauvages palpitant de blancheur :
Les rouges-gorges enflant leur plumage de feu
Siffleront à loisir perchés sur les clôtures.
Et nul ne saura rien de la guerre qui fait rage,
Nul ne s'inquiétera quand en viendra la fin,
Nul ne se souciera qu'il soit arbre ou oiseau
De voir exterminé jusqu'au dernier des hommes,
Et le printemps lui-même en s'éveillant à l'aube
Ne soupçonnera pas notre éternelle absence.
Sara Teasdale. |